


Marked

by CannibalCorruption



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, Dominance, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Knives, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Woman on Top, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22564933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalCorruption/pseuds/CannibalCorruption
Summary: You start to wonder if Hannibal's feelings for Will aren't going to get in the way of your relationship. Hannibal encourages you to assert some dominance and mark your territory...
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter & Reader, Hannibal Lecter/Reader
Comments: 19
Kudos: 116





	Marked

I stood at the sink, washing dishes and doing what I always do: worrying. I had finally gotten the chance to meet some of Hannibal’s colleagues and all I could do was stand there and be insecure.

‘I’m not going to say a thing,’ I thought. ‘He sees enough of my insecurity, he doesn’t need to see this insecure-jealous hybrid side of me.’ Tears welled in my eyes as I recalled the way he looked at Will. There was no denying that he had feelings for him. ‘How could I possibly compete with a guy who’s so handsome and so intelligent? Hannibal needs an intellectual equal…’ Tears started to stream down my face and I angled my face down, trying to hide it, and trying to stop crying but my inner voice wouldn’t stop. ‘I love him so much, I can’t bear to lose him. What am I going to—‘

“Darling, are you all right?” Hannibal asked, wrapping an arm around me and trying to get a glimpse of my face.

“Mm hm,” I nodded, knowing that if I said a single word, things would get messy.

“I see,” he said, his free hand stroking my arm comfortingly. “Well, until you’re ready to talk about whatever it is, I’ll just stand here, utterly in your way.” I maintained my silence as long as I could but finally choked on a sob. I turned the water off and stood frozen, makeup running down my cheeks. “You can tell me anything, you know,” he told me as he picked up a dish towel and dried off my hands. “Have I done something insensitive?”

“This isn’t about me being neurotic,” I replied, insisting on avoiding eye contact. I paused. “Ok, so maybe it is but not in the way you think.” He watched me, listening patiently. “This is about me being naive and thinking that I was going to be enough for you. I’ve always just been so fucking stupid and—“

“I won’t hear you insult yourself when you know how much I care about you and how highly I think of you,” he interrupted calmly. “What’s brought this on?”

“If I was any kind of intellectual match for you, I might have been able to keep you interested,” I pressed, still denying eye contact.

He furrowed his brow. “I’m afraid I haven’t any idea what you’re talking about. But I’ll have you know that you’re a good deal more intelligent than you ever give yourself credit for. Why do you think I find you so captivating?”

I was pissed off. Why would he bother being kind to me if he was losing interest? Cruel. It would just be more painful when it would come time for things to end. I looked straight into his eyes.

“Are you in love with Will?” I asked. He seemed taken aback. I don’t think I’d ever said anything that had left him speechless before. He was less surprised when I told him that I didn’t care that he killed people - that I was ok with him AND ME eating people. Because I love him more than all of that. And yet now he was more shocked than I’d ever seen him. I was willing to die to keep his secret. I would cover for him for anything. And I was prepared to die if things didn’t work out between us because how could things possibly go any other way?

I sighed sharply and shrugged, throwing my hands up in defeat. “I mean, I can’t compete with him. He’s brilliant. I guess I have to come to terms with either sharing you or you dumping me - and I’ll have to mean ‘dump’ in both senses of the word.”

He placed his hands on my shoulders. “You must understand. Feelings are different from actions and intentions.” I watched him closely but what would be the use? His poker face was impenetrable and he had absolutely no tells. I could tell, however, that he was irritated with the situation. He took a breath and began to unload some of his frustrations. “I’ll be perfectly honest. Frankly, I had never, in my many years, prepared to be in any kind of real relationship. I certainly did not expect to find someone with whom I could share the truth about myself. This has been something of an adjustment.” He rubbed his forehead. “I can only deduce that you must feel this way because I haven’t treated you well enough.”

“Stop it, you’re guilt tripping me,” I snapped.

“And you weren’t ‘guilt tripping’ me just before by insulting yourself?” he asked. I shot him a frustrated look. “You and I both are susceptible to what human nature has to offer. My intention isn’t to make you feel guilty. If I was making you feel special and feel secure, you wouldn’t feel this way.”

“That’s not what’s going on here…” I muttered, unsure of what else to say.

He sighed. “Simply put, as a human being, you can not control with respect for whom you develop feelings. But you CAN control how you react to them. I have no intention of being ‘shared.’ As I said, I absolutely never thought I would care about someone enough to want to be with them for any stretch of time — much less always. Every other person I had even the slightest romantic feeling for, I could see myself with for a very short amount of time. I would either manipulate them into taking the fall for my own crimes or simply end up murdering them. Puzzlingly, I have no desire to nor intention of doing either such thing to you.” His eyes were filled with a fiery intensity. He cupped my face in his hands and leaned in. “I need you to understand the magnitude of what I’m telling you.”

Tears streamed down my face once again and I fell to my knees. He got down on his knees and hugged me. I cried, tightly gripping his shirt. He put a hand on the back of my head and pulled me closer, my face pressed to his chest. Mascara smeared onto his white, button-up shirt but he didn’t care.

“Do you trust me?” he asked. I nodded. “Do you believe me, then?” I nodded again and he kissed my head. He grabbed my hands and stood up, pulling me with him. “Let’s sit down a moment.”

We walked over to the couch and sat down. I sat cross-legged facing him and he sat with one leg folded up and facing me. He grabbed a tissue from the box on the coffee table and wiped the smeared eye makeup and tears from my cheeks.

“I’m sorry I kind of freaked out…” I said quietly.

“I’m sorry I made you feel so distressed,” he told me. “I need you to know that I love you. More than I could ever love anyone else.”

“I love you, too, Hannibal.” He kissed me gently. He placed one hand on my cheek and one behind my head. I put my arms around his neck. Sometimes it surprises me just how sweet and tender he can be. Newton’s Third Law: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. For all of his evil, there is goodness, too. This doesn’t apply to all serial killers but it does to mine.

The kiss intensified. He slid his arms around my waist and his tongue into my mouth. I could feel my face flushing and heating up. He was intoxicating. A strong feeling of greediness rose up in me. I’m as submissive as they come but suddenly, a fire of dominance was burning within me. I pushed him back against the couch and straddled him, pinning him by the shoulders. I kissed him ravenously and aggressively unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. I unbuttoned his shirt and yanked it off. I pulled my dress off over my head in one sweeping motion and stood up in front of him, removing my underwear.

“Take off your pants,” I ordered, breathing quickly. He cocked a half-smile and tilted his head slightly, looking at me for a moment. I never acted like this. I knew it was out of the ordinary but in the moment, I couldn’t help it. He stood up and obeyed my order.

“I have an idea, my love,” he stated, stroking my hair. He continued speaking as he walked back over to the kitchen, “As it were, human beings are mere animals in the grand scheme of things, after all.” He took a sharp knife from the knife block. My heart skipped a beat and he walked back to me. “Perhaps this situation requires a somewhat primal solution.”

My stomach dropped. I looked at him, heart pounding. Suddenly he took the knife by the blade and flipped it around, offering the handle to me. I furrowed my brow in confusion but took the knife. He sat back down, stark naked, on the couch and pulled me into his lap, straddling him once again.

“In the wild, when an animal is feeling particularly possessive, they will mark their territory,” he explained calmly, “as a warning to others to keep their distance. As an act of dominance.”

I looked at him, shaking slightly. He took hold of my hand that gripped the knife and pulled it to him, the edge of the blade resting against his muscular pec. He let his hands fall to his side.

“So, mark your territory,” he said, looking deep into my eyes.

“I… I don’t…” I stammered.

“Cut me,” he directed, his gaze unbroken. “Draw blood. As one would make a sacrifice.”

I hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you, baby…”

“But what if I wanted you to?” he asked, maintaining intense eye contact. My heart fluttered and my face flushed with arousal. I placed my free hand on his shoulder, my eyes flitting between his eyes and the knife. “Come on, my darling,” he egged. “Bleed me. Prove I’m yours.”

I took a deep breath. Shaking, hands weak, gritting my teeth, I pressed the blade into his skin and dragged it along to form a shallow, four inch long wound. He sharply gasped through his teeth and I could feel him getting hard underneath me. He placed his hands on my hips.

“That’s it…” he breathed, smiling. “Now, don’t let it go to waste.”

I placed the knife on the side table and leaned down, nearing my mouth to the wound. I swiftly glanced up at him. His eyes were lit up with intrigue and arousal. I ran my tongue across the wound, blood gathering on my tongue and lips.

“How do I taste?” he asked, holding onto my head as if I was blowing him.

A smile formed on my face as I came to a realization. “You taste like you’re mine.”

He grunted with a smirk, his hardness twitching under me. His hands ran up my hips and to my breasts. I lapped at the wound as he squeezed and caressed me. I sat up and kissed him roughly. He relished the flavor of blood in his mouth and kissed back with extra fervor.

I reached down and gripped and stroked his erection. He placed one hand on the small of my back and one on the back of my neck. I held his cock in place and mounted him with a deep exhale. I put my arms around his neck and he pulled me in close, burying his face in my chest and covering it in kisses. I ran my fingers through his hair and I could feel blood from his wound smearing onto my stomach.

With a whimper, I slowly started to grind on him, stirring him around inside me and burying his cock as deep inside me as physically possible. He growled, lips pressed against my skin. I moved my hips up and down, my core burning with pleasure and greedy desire. Whining, I increased speed a bit. My body was on fire and I was breaking out into a sweat. He grabbed tightly onto my ass, pressing his fingertips hard into my skin. The pain mixed with the pleasure to form an exhilarating cocktail of sensation. He used his strength to help me slam my hips down into him harder and harder. I cried out — I felt as if electricity was shooting through my entire body and I hadn’t even come yet.

My breath was heavy and gasping, my vision slightly blurring. Never in my life had I felt this particular brand of pleasure and it was potent. I grabbed his forearms and pulled them up, pushing them against the couch and holding them in place. For once, he had relinquished all control. He let out a chorus of grunts in time with my increasingly louder moans as my thrusts gained speed. I squeezed his forearms tighter in my grip as I felt an orgasm building fast. I threw my head back. I could feel my pussy tightening around his cock. I moaned at the top of my lungs and just as I felt like the wind was being knocked out of me, I came — incredibly hard. I slowed down my thrusts quite a bit but did not stop, still feeling greedy and possessive.

“May I?” Hannibal asked with a smirk, breaking me out of my stupor.

“What?” I asked, breathing hard.

“May I have your permission to come?” he asked calmly through heavy breaths. This was a complete role-reversal. Usually, if permission was required, I would be the one asking for it. If someone would be pinned down, it would be me. If someone’s blood was going to be drawn, it would be mine. This evening, my world was upside down and I was going to enjoy it.

“No,” I replied strictly, looking straight into his eyes. He half-smiled and tilted his head at me, fascinated by my newfound dominance. His expression soon changed, however, as he struggled to hold out longer.

I moved my grip to the couch and began thrusting again, quickly. The second orgasm built faster this time. I grabbed Hannibal’s hands and placed them on my hips, then wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Ok, come for me,” I breathed in his ear. He let out a growl and with his strength and mine, pounded me down on his cock. I cried out and came again, spasming hard against him. He followed suit and came immediately. My pussy twitched tightly around his cock as I slowly wound down my thrusts. He shuddered against me, breathing heavily. He put his arms around my waist, resting his hands on my upper back. I rested my head on his shoulder, catching my breath.

After a moment, I lifted my head to look at him. He looked very satisfied, perhaps in more ways than one. I kissed him softly. He chuckled, still fairly amazed and fascinated by our exploits. I chuckled as well.

“Are you feeling better, my love?” he asked, his thumbs gently stroking my skin.

“Significantly,” I replied, placing my palm overtop his wound. “Now, don’t forget it —consider yourself marked.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr:  
> [Writing Blog](https://cannibalcorruptionwriting.tumblr.com/)  
> [Main Blog (Mostly Self Ship)](https://cannibalcorruption.tumblr.com/)


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